Sunday
by sonicstardust
Summary: Tony muses with his feelings for Ziva, and why she's not like the other girls. Oneshot TIVA drabble.


When he knew what he wanted nothing could stop him. Nothing, that is, but this: this teensy little roadblock called flirting. With any other girl it would have been the simplest thing in the world; he knew all the tricks, all the lines. He could be a regular Romeo when the occasion called for it. If Anthony DiNozzo couldn't dazzle a girl with a smile and a cheesy Sinatra impression, then he was just lost. And so it seemed that this time he was out of luck. None of the regular gimmicks worked with Ziva.

As a coworker she had quickly stepped up to the plate and matched him in witty sexual humor. With any other girl their relationship would have quickly progressed to that of a more physical nature, but with Ziva it was just day to day behavior. He had enjoyed all their banter while it lasted. Unfortunately their relationship had reached a crossroads. Having totally exhausted all forms of flirting and sexual innuendos, they had tired of the games and had almost altogether ceased their usual improprieties. They weren't regularly invading each others' space anymore, and their joking banter had dwindled down to the occasional sly remark. Any attempts he made at serious verbal flirting would probably be totally lost on her. In all likelihood she would probably take it as a joke and go along with it. But the spark wouldn't be there.

It was like the foreplay had ended and now Tony was stumped. Ziva wasn't like the other girls: she wasn't going to just giggle and fall into bed with him. On the flip side, Tony didn't want her to be that girl. She wasn't going to be the one he'd leave before she woke up and never call.

It was early morning and she hadn't arrived yet. He imagined that she was there already; pretended that he was watching the slope of her neck and the slight furrow of her brow as she examined a case report. She would toss her hair over her shoulder in that way that drove him crazy. He shook off the image and glanced at the elevator, willing it to open and to reveal her. Apparently adverse to his wishes, the elevator remained closed and silent.

Tony reclined in his chair, musing. If he tried to do _other_ things that he considered "flirting", he honestly believed that he was liable to sustain serious bodily harm, as a direct result of his attempts. He went over a mental checklist of "don'ts". He couldn't tousle her hair – she'd already made that message loud and clear. He couldn't tickle her sides – she'd probably break his thumbs. He couldn't surprise her – she was more than likely to put him in a Vulcan death grip. If he offered a hug, she would probably suspect that he had other motives and refuse…

_DING._

The elevator doors rolled open and Ziva swept into the squad room. Her hair was a mass of untamed curls, she wore black workout pants, a turquoise t-shirt, and an irritated scowl. Unfortunately for Tony's concentration, her windblown, helter-skelter appearance made her seem even more appealing to him. Her lateness seemed to make her very rushed and annoyed, even though Gibbs wasn't there to tell her off.

…_Probably PMS related_. Tony thought, but quickly pushed the thought out. He needed to be suave and debonair as usual, but also – he shuddered at the thought – mature. But however uncomfortable he felt, he resolved that he would turn over a new leaf for her. The old Tony would have chuckled and made the PMS remark, but his New and Improved Version of Tony smiled in a way that he hoped wouldn't be patronizing and asked casually,

"Rough morning?"

Ziva paused in the middle of shedding her coat. Her eyes narrowed, but she seemed to recognize his earnest interest. "Yes." she replied. "I slept through my alarm, my car would not start, and I was forced to take the bus."

"Ouch," Tony sympathized. "Well, you didn't miss anything." He glanced at his watch. "Probie is even later than you, so he's in for hell when Gibbs gets back…from wherever he is." Agent DiNozzo glanced over his shoulder, suddenly aware that his boss could sneak up on him at any minute.

Ziva stood up. "So you haven't actually seen Gibbs yet?" She asked, pointing at him in a quizzical way.

Tony shook his head. "Nope, figured he was in MTAC or on a coffee run." He yawned in an exaggerated way.

Ziva sauntered around across to her coworker's desk. "Tony, what is today?" Ziva asked warily.

"Saturday the fifteenth."

"Yesterday was the fifteenth." Ziva corrected.

The two looked at each other with equal looks of shock and annoyance, as simultaneous realization hit them.

Ziva cursed quietly in Hebrew, and Tony grimaced. "It's Sunday isn't it?"

"We were not even called into work!" Ziva groaned, and Tony could gauge her level of annoyance by the fact that her hand motions were beginning to get more pronounced.

"And since Gibbs is not here," she continued, "we may assume that he is at home, working on that damned boat, and that—"

"We have no case." Tony finished for her quietly; his voice seemed in sharp contrast to Ziva's raised tone.

Ziva stalked back to her desk and began to gather her belongings, as Tony shut down his computer and slid into his windbreaker. He paused to watch her and smiled slightly to himself. _God she's cute when she's mad._ Anthony shook his head and left his desk, eager to vacate the premises. He took a few moments to stand between the facing desks, surveying Ziva David as she sank heavily into her chair.

The young Israeli woman seemed not to notice his attention, as she sat with her head in her hands. After a short time, his stare became more pointed. Ziva felt his eyes on her and looked up into them.

"What?"

He chuckled. "What are you doing?"

"I am waiting. The bus does not come for another thirty minutes, and it is cold outside."

Tony DiNozzo shook his head, still grinning knowingly. "C'mon Zee-vah." He snickered, purposely over-enunciating her name. "I'll give you a ride." He gestured with his head toward the elevator. "Let's go."

She nodded, giving half a smile. She seemed slightly confused, but not displeased. "Thank you, Tony." Ziva said slowly, following him to the elevator.

As the two exited the building, the day was bright and brisk, with a cutting breeze that made the two agents huddle closer together than normal. They did not say much to one another as they walked to the car, but once they reached it, Tony couldn't help himself. He couldn't forever be the scared little boy who would pull the cute girl's hair and run away. This was his playground now.

Before they got in his car, he caught her eye across the top of the vehicle. "Look Ziva," he said loudly, talking over the rushing sound of the wind, "Do you wanna go get breakfast together? We can eat, catch up, just talk...or whatever. I've been thinking about it a lot lately, and thing is…you drive me crazy."

She squinted against the sun. "What was that? I could only hear the first part. The wind." She nearly shouted to be heard.

Tony shook his head and waved it off. "Nothing!" He yelled.

Oblivious to his valiant attempt to make his feelings known, Ziva howled, "Unlock the door, it is freezing!"

As the two got in the car, and headed for the nearest diner, Tony was hit with the stinging realization that he couldn't just let things drop. Suddenly, bringing a slight scream from his passenger, and honks from other cars, Tony pulled the car to the side of the road.

"Tony what the—"

"Ziva, I know I said it was nothing, but honestly, it wasn't 'nothing', it was everything. In fact, I don't know how I held back this long, because now it's just gonna come bursting out and I'm probably going to sound like an idiot." He babbled on in a wry manner, grinning, but knowing how little sense he was making.

"Go on." Ziva said, giving him a calculating look.

"I intend to," DiNozzo nodded and chuckled in an almost manic way, "in fact, I never want to stop telling you how you put butterflies in my stomach and a spring in my step. You're the reason I want to get up in the morning, and the reason I hate going home at night. I love the way you look when you're mad at me, and I love the way you drive me crazy. I can't really say more than that, other than it's all true, and I honestly don't know what to do with any of it."

She sat there, gaping at him. Tony began to come down from the sudden high he'd developed as he spilled his guts to her, and he began to wonder if he'd just made the biggest mistake of his life.

All his fears dissipated the moment he saw her smile. "I can't really top that, can I? What is that ridiculous word you use all the time?" She reached out to touch his cheek, heat radiating from her grin. "Oh yes," she gave a sparkling little laugh as she remembered, "ditto."


End file.
